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- Элизабет Гилберт
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- Ешь, молись, люби
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By
1
:
00
PM
,
the
streets
outside
the
pizzeria
have
become
jammed
with
Neapolitans
trying
to
get
into
the
place
,
shoving
for
access
like
they
’
re
trying
to
get
space
on
a
lifeboat
.
There
’
s
not
a
menu
.
They
have
only
two
varieties
of
pizza
here
-
regular
and
extra
cheese
.
None
of
this
new
age
southern
California
olives
-
and
-
sun
-
dried
-
tomato
wannabe
pizza
twaddle
.
The
dough
,
it
takes
me
half
my
meal
to
figure
out
,
tastes
more
like
Indian
nan
than
like
any
pizza
dough
I
ever
tried
.
It
’
s
soft
and
chewy
and
yielding
,
but
incredibly
thin
.
I
always
thought
we
only
had
two
choices
in
our
lives
when
it
came
to
pizza
crust
-
thin
and
crispy
,
or
thick
and
doughy
.
How
was
I
to
have
known
there
could
be
a
crust
in
this
world
that
was
thin
and
doughy
?
Holy
of
holies
!
Thin
,
doughy
,
strong
,
gummy
,
yummy
,
chewy
,
salty
pizza
paradise
.
On
top
,
there
is
a
sweet
tomato
sauce
that
foams
up
all
bubbly
and
creamy
when
it
melts
the
fresh
buffalo
mozzarella
,
and
the
one
sprig
of
basil
in
the
middle
of
the
whole
deal
somehow
infuses
the
entire
pizza
with
herbal
radiance
,
much
the
same
way
one
shimmering
movie
star
in
the
middle
of
a
party
brings
a
contact
high
of
glamour
to
everyone
around
her
.
It
’
s
technically
impossible
to
eat
this
thing
,
of
course
.
You
try
to
take
a
bite
off
your
slice
and
the
gummy
crust
folds
,
and
the
hot
cheese
runs
away
like
topsoil
in
a
landslide
,
makes
a
mess
of
you
and
your
surroundings
,
but
just
deal
with
it
.
The
guys
who
make
this
miracle
happen
are
shoveling
the
pizzas
in
and
out
of
the
wood
-
burning
oven
,
looking
for
all
the
world
like
the
boilermen
in
the
belly
of
a
great
ship
who
shovel
coal
into
the
raging
furnaces
.
Their
sleeves
are
rolled
up
over
their
sweaty
forearms
,
their
faces
red
with
exertion
,
one
eye
squinted
against
the
heat
of
the
fire
and
a
cigarette
dangling
from
the
lips
.
Sofie
and
I
each
order
another
pie
-
another
whole
pizza
each
-
and
Sofie
tries
to
pull
herself
together
,
but
really
,
the
pizza
is
so
good
we
can
barely
cope
.
A
word
about
my
body
.
I
am
gaining
weight
every
day
,
of
course
.
I
am
doing
rude
things
to
my
body
here
in
Italy
,
taking
in
such
ghastly
amounts
of
cheese
and
pasta
and
bread
and
wine
and
chocolate
and
pizza
dough
.
(
Elsewhere
in
Naples
,
I
’
d
been
told
,
you
can
actually
get
something
called
chocolate
pizza
.
What
kind
of
nonsense
is
that
?
I
mean
,
later
I
did
go
find
some
,
and
it
’
s
delicious
,
but
honestly
-
chocolate
pizza
?
)
I
’
m
not
exercising
,
I
’
m
not
eating
enough
fiber
,
I
’
m
not
taking
any
vitamins
.
In
my
real
life
,
I
have
been
known
to
eat
organic
goat
’
s
milk
yoghurt
sprinkled
with
wheat
germ
for
breakfast
.
My
real
-
life
days
are
long
gone
.
Back
in
America
,
my
friend
Susan
is
telling
people
I
’
m
on
a
"
No
Carb
Left
Behind
"
tour
.
But
my
body
is
being
such
a
good
sport
about
all
this
.
My
body
is
turning
a
blind
eye
to
my
misdoings
and
my
overindulgences
,
as
if
to
say
,
"
OK
,
kid
,
live
it
up
,
I
recognize
that
this
is
just
temporary
.
Let
me
know
when
your
little
experiment
with
pure
pleasure
is
over
,
and
I
’
ll
see
what
I
can
do
about
damage
control
.
"
Still
,
when
I
look
at
myself
in
the
mirror
of
the
best
pizzeria
in
Naples
,
I
see
a
bright
-
eyed
,
clear
-
skinned
,
happy
and
healthy
face
.
I
haven
’
t
seen
a
face
like
that
on
me
for
a
long
time
.
"
Thank
you
,
"
I
whisper
Then
Sofie
and
I
run
out
in
the
rain
to
look
for
pastries
.
It
is
this
happiness
,
I
suppose
(
which
is
really
a
few
months
old
by
now
)
,
that
gets
me
to
thinking
upon
my
return
to
Rome
that
I
need
to
do
something
about
David
.
That
maybe
it
’
s
time
for
us
to
end
our
story
forever
.
We
were
already
separated
,
that
was
official
,
but
there
was
still
a
window
of
hope
left
open
that
perhaps
someday
(
maybe
after
my
travels
,
maybe
after
a
year
apart
)
we
could
give
things
another
try
.
We
loved
each
other
.
That
was
never
the
question
.
It
’
s
just
that
we
couldn
’
t
figure
out
how
to
stop
making
each
other
desperately
,
shriekingly
,
soul
-
punishingly
miserable
.
Last
spring
David
had
offered
this
crazy
solution
to
our
woes
,
only
half
in
jest
:
"
What
if
we
just
acknowledged
that
we
have
a
bad
relationship
,
and
we
stuck
it
out
,
anyway
?
What
if
we
admitted
that
we
make
each
other
nuts
,
we
fight
constantly
and
hardly
ever
have
sex
,
but
we
can
’
t
live
without
each
other
,
so
we
deal
with
it
?
And
then
we
could
spend
our
lives
together
-
in
misery
,
but
happy
to
not
be
apart
.
"
Let
it
be
a
testimony
to
how
desperately
I
love
this
guy
that
I
have
spent
the
last
ten
months
giving
that
offer
serious
consideration
.
